Tales of the Dib
by Twilight Scribe
Summary: A collection of oneshots focusing on the Dib-human and all those bizarre adventures and encounters he's supposed to have had. You know, the ones that are mentioned briefly throughout the series but never shown. It's neat.
1. An Insult From Beyond the Grave

Disclaimer: Own Invader Zim? Me? ... Have you the brainworms?!

AN: One night while I was watching my old Zim episodes again, as I have no life and nothing better to do, I noticed there are a lot of hilarious things that Dib has been mentioned doing, but that are never elaborated on in the series. So, I decided, "Hey, why not write a bunch of drabbles about those little exploits and mini-adventures Dib gets into?"

So, I did. And now you have to suffer with it. Enjoy!

* * *

**An Insult From Beyond the Grave**

It all started innocently enough. A series of random splashes and flushing from the toilet bowl, when no one was in the bathroom. The occasional disembodied snatches of Japanese Dib started to hear as he brushed his teeth at the sink. Motion and sound, two signs of an emerging poltergeist, but nothing that much out of the ordinary for the Membrane household. It wasn't until a few weeks later that things started to get... Horrible.

-- -- -- -- --

Dib stood outside the bathroom door, his ghost-catching kit in one hand and a plunger in the other, staring down his foe. Whatever it was that was lurking in that, that bowl of evil- Seriously, there was something in there! Something awful! (And not the normal kind of awful you find in a toilet...) Whatever that thing was, it ignored Gaz and his dad, but it hated him. Dib guessed that a few days ago when an ectoplasmic arm wielding a wickedly sharp sword shot out of the toilet as he tried to take care of business.

He had wanted to get rid of the ghost then, run to his room to get his equipment and be done with it; but Gaz said she wanted to take a shower and promised him horrible suffering if he did anything to interfere. Horrible, horrible suffering... So he decided to wait.

But now, now Gaz wasn't around. He had the house to himself and, even though he didn't have the FBI support he requested (forty-two calls and they ignored him each time, jerks...), it was exorcism time.

Moving as cautiously as he could, plunger held out in front of him like a spear, Dib stepped closer to the haunted toilet and asked "Uh... Hey, ghost, why're you here?"

No answer. Dib set down his ghost catching kit and crept even nearer to the dread commode. When in range, he quickly reached out with the plunger and knocked as hard as he could on the closed toilet lid. For a moment nothing seemed to happen as the hollow 'thok thok thok' of plastic on plastic faded from the room, but as the muted noise quit reverberating off the tiled walls, Dib noticed a peculiar rumbling.

The entire room began to shake as the lid and seat of the toilet flapped wildly on their hinges, spewing foul toilet water over everything and throwing Dib to the slippery tile floor. It hurt, but Dib was glad he fell when he looked up and beheld the steady stream of ectoplasm shuriken that just narrowly missed his head. Turning his gaze back to the toilet just in time to catch the last of the geysers and possessed antics, Dib watched, amazed, as an ectoplasmic form leapt out of the u-bend and landed with a supernatural grace on the lowered toilet seat. It was just as he suspected. This thing was no normal ghost, it was a ninja!

Dib leapt to his feet brandishing the plunger dramatically, fully confident despite the fact he was soaking wet after being drenched with who-knows-what.

"You! What're you doing in my toilet?!"

The ninja rattled off an incomprehensible string of aggravated Japanese, a tormented cry that meant _'Your head, it is too large! It keeps me from my eternal rest!'_ Though he didn't speak the language, Dib had heard similar sentiments often enough to understand what it meant no matter how it was said.

"My head's not big!"

The ninja, enraged by Dib's denial, lunged from its perch on the rim of the toilet seat, its sword poised to run the boy through- Only to get a face full of plunger. He liked to keep it a secret, but Dib had one heck of a throwing arm and he never hesitated to use his secret weapon when the situation warranted it.

The force behind Dib's plunger-turned-javelin knocked his otherworldly foe back into the toilet hard enough to slam the lid shut. Seeing his opportunity to get rid of the apparition once and for all, Dib raced across the room and flushed the toilet once, twice, three times. He didn't stop flushing until the ninja ghost's crazed howls ceased.

When he lifted the lid to make sure it was gone, no water shot out at him and nothing of ghostly origin tried to kill him. Everything was normal again. It was nice to be able to stand in his bathroom and not fear for his life for a change, and he had done it himself. He, Dib, got rid of the ghost all on his own. Who needs the FBI anyway? (It would be tough explaining to dad why he and the bathroom were drenched in sewer water though...)

* * *

AN: Mentioned in _'Zim Eats Waffles'_

FBI Agent Greg: Hey, wait. You're... Dib, right? Did you ever get that ninja ghost out of your toilet?  
Dib: Yes, no thanks to you!

* * *


	2. Back for the Disc Grinder

Disclaimer: Hm... yeah. Disclaim.

AN: Hm, so I see you've stuck around. Neat. Gotta say... I'm glad I got such a response for the last chapter. I hope you'll all like this one just as much.

* * *

**Back for the Disc Grinder**

Finally, after years of waiting, he was back! Dib installed the cameras in the garage a few days after his first visit and kept the place under surveillance for the last two years. It cost him a small fortune in recordable discs, but it was worth it. Bigfoot finally returned. He had irrefutable proof of Sasquatch's existence in glorious, high-def video! And now he could get his belt sander back too. He'd been missing that thing...

But, it wasn't enough to just watch Bigfoot. No, Dib shook his head, he should go down there and get some footage with his trusty camcorder too, just in case. Besides, meeting the legendary Sasquatch! How cool would that be?! Leaping up from his seat in front of the computer, Dib snatched the small camera and raced downstairs to his garage workshop.

-- -- -- -- --

Dib could hardly believe it, Bigfoot was even more amazing in person than on video! Smellier too... The huge, shaggy beast seemed engrossed in its work as it stood in front of the garage's well-stocked workbench, picking through the various tools with its bear-like clawed hands. It was looking for something specific, Dib couldn't guess what, but he knew he had things to ask the mythic beast. Important questions that couldn't wait!

"Um... Excuse me, Mr. Bigfoot?" The sasquatch turned its head slowly and inspected Dib with a calm, slightly curious glance. The fact that it hadn't immediately started ripping his legs off was reassuring, so Dib continued with his inquiry. "Do you still have that belt sander you borrowed from me? I kinda need it back..."

The pensive look that spread across the sasquatch's furry face seemed out of place on such a creature and turned more surreal as it morphed into a wide, fanged grin. Dib almost had a heart attack when the thing rushed across the garage to wrap him in a bear-hug and lifted him off his feet.

"Yes! Still have. Used to make table for breakfast nook. Wife happy." Dib was stunned, barely able to stay standing when the sasquatch set him back on his feet. It was one thing that Bigfoot could speak English, but did he seriously just say...?

"Wait, Bigfoot, you have a breakfast nook?" The wife didn't seem so far out of place, it made sense that sasquatches would have mates, but a breakfast nook? What kind of legendary monster built a breakfast nook? Come on. Come on! Dib peered up past the nine foot height difference to meet the sasquatch's eyes. It was still smiling and seemed sincere.

"Yes. Breakfast nook in nice house. Live with wife few streets over." Bigfoot paused, looking thoughtfully at the workbench before pointing to the middle of the small pile of tools he had made with one claw. "Can borrow disc grinder? Will bring back belt sander soon."

There wasn't much Dib could do beyond nod mutely and watch as Bigfoot grabbed the handheld grinder. He stood frozen even as the creature opened the garage door and left with a wave and a good-natured "Thank!" It was just too much to take in at once. Bigfoot, the Bigfoot, was one of his neighbors and a handyman and was going to return his belt sander... He had to tell Gaz!

The camera slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor, forgotten as Dib raced out of the garage towards the living room where his terrifying sibling sat, engrossed in a challenging level of Vampire Piggies.

"You'll never believe it, Gaz! Bigfoot has a breakfast nook! He really does!" Dib was so excited, not even the loud lament of "my poor, insane son" that drifted up from his father's basement lab could put a damper on his high spirits.

* * *

AN: Mentioned in 'The Nightmare Begins.'

The Letter M: What's wrong with you? All you talk about is aliens and ghosts and seeing Bigfoot in your garage  
Dib: He was using the belt sander...

Now, this one... This one raises questions. Remember the sasquatch kid Dib was chasing up the jungle gym of death at Skool in Bad Bad Rubber Piggy? (A wonderfully disturbing episode, if I may say so.) Well, if Bigfoot is Dib's neighbor, then maybe that kid really was a sasquatch! It could've been Bigfoot's kid! According to me, he's got a wife and a nice house, why not kids too? I didn't plan this when I was writing the chapter, by the way, it just popped into my head once I finished.

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	3. Afternoon of the Annoying Dead

Disclaimer: Really, I'm serious! This isn't stupid, it's advanced!

AN: Well, this is the last chapter I've got cooked up for this little enterprise right now, meaning I probably won't be making more anytime soon. (You'll be waiting for months! Or for as long as it takes for me to get an opportunity to watch a Zim marathon again.) If that bothers you, then send me an idea. Something you've noticed mentioned about Dib in the series. I may have missed it, forgotten about it, whatever. If a source presents itself and I find something I think I can write about, then I will. It's what I do.

Otherwise, begin your crying now! And read. Do that too...

* * *

**Afternoon of the Annoying Dead**

Dib couldn't believe it worked. It was amazing! Sure, now he had a bunch of undead horrors shambling around his bedroom searching for the flesh of the living, but still. It was pretty cool. Who would have though that "By the powers of the Ancient Ones, I do command thee lost souls to wakey wakey eggs and bakey" was a real spell?

From his relatively safe vantage point, sitting on his bed armed with the crowbar he used to pry his way into locked and condemned spooky places, Dib could see the tome he used to summon the undead lying open on his desk, though his view was a little obstructed by the mass of zombie bodies standing in the way. That was bad, seeing as how he had to get back to the book to send them all away, and he wasn't quite sure how to do that.

To tell the truth, Dib was worried. He picked the tome up at the city's premiere occult and paranormal bookshop, Spookies 'R Us, a couple days ago because it looked old and special. (Bound in a peculiar leather with black pages and written in a strange tongue, it was pretty neat.) But when he finished translating the first few pages and saw how outrageous the spells were he quickly started to lose faith in the tome's worth and authenticity. (Come on, what kind of invisibility spell goes "You can't see me! Nyah nyah, nyah nyah, nyah nyah!"?) He got careless. By the time Dib got to the zombie spell he was fed up, almost to the point of ranting to himself, and accidentally read it aloud without thinking, and without translating the details and banishing spell.

As it was, Dib had no idea why the zombies didn't attack him. It could be that they couldn't hurt the one who summoned them, or they could and just hadn't noticed him yet, or maybe they weren't the attacking type. Maybe they were labor zombies like the ones used at McMeaties to take orders and cook.

Using the crowbar to support himself, Dib leaned out through the crush of zombies. They seemed to take no interest in him or his sweet, sweet blood candies, so he kept it up. The book was just inches away from his outstretched fingers, if he reached just a little further it would be in his grasp! The Earth would be saved from the zombie menace!

Then his dad walked in.

"Now son, what have I told you about letting your little friends decompose in the house?"

With a way finally presenting itself to them, the zombies escaped, rushing past the professor and out the open door to find freedom and sustenance.

-- -- -- -- --

Professor Membrane was a brilliant, mostly sane man, devoted to the pursuit of real science. He didn't believe in aliens, Bigfoot, the Lake Spooky monster, hamster ghosts, or really any of the things Dib was always ranting about. There was, however, one aspect of his son's insanity that he could not deny. Zombies. Thanks to mass media technology they were a fact of life, making up over ninety percent of shopping mall security forces and consumers worldwide.

The professor was actually quiet knowledgeable when it came to zombies, having worked with the scientifically and culturally-created types before. Once he realized the things in his son's room were not, in fact, foreign children, he knew exactly what to do. They had to be contained and destroyed before they could spread to infect the outside world. The best way to do that was to wait for the zombies to reach the living room. If Gaz was still in there playing her Gameslave 2, like she was the last time the professor checked when he left his lab three days ago, the situation would resolve itself.

"Dad, the zombies escaped! What're we going to do?! They'll spread their undead evil!" The professor just laughed. That was his son all right, always unleashing undead hordes without stopping to think of the consequences. He was lucky his daughter wasn't as insane.

"Relax son, your sister can take care of this." His claim was reinforced by the unearthly scream of pure, primal rage that followed, coming from the living room.

-- -- -- -- --

Half and hour later, the professor and his children stood in their living room, surrounded by scores of headless, mangled zombie corpses, courtesy of Gaz. Dib could hardly believe his little sister single-handedly destroyed an entire army of the undead. Sure, she was terrifying and all, but wow! He was going to compliment her monster-slaying prowess, but stopped when he was the darkly seething look on her face.

"They distracted me, Dib. I was almost through the last level. I had almost finished the game and your stupid zombies distracted me!" Suddenly Dib almost felt sorry for the zombies. Gaz had threatened him with utter destruction for interrupting her gaming countless times before, but never gone through with it. Now Dib could finally see an example of what it would be like. Scary...

"We're lucky your sister was here." The professor didn't seem put off by the carnage at all. He was practically cheerful, beaming at his daughter's accomplishment. So young and already saving the planet! "Dib, if it wasn't for her, you would have doomed the entire human race!" Dib hung his abnormally large head.

"I'm sorry..."

"Well, mankind is safe, so as long as you've learned your lesson, I suppose it's all right. Now, back to real science!" As their father strode back to his lab in the basement, Gaz and Dib looked at each other. Dib knew exactly what Gaz was about to say and, though he dreaded it, could find no way to stop her.

"You're cleaning this up, you know."

Looking around at the piles of decaying zombie parts littering the room, he was very sorry indeed.

* * *

AN: Mentioned in 'Backseat Drivers From Beyond the Stars'

Dib: NOOOOOOOOOO!  
Professor Membrane: Son, there'd better not be any walking dead up there!  
Dib: It's nothing to worry about, Dad! And I said I was sorry about that!

Note, I didn't actually have the zombies do anything wrong here. (Aside from distract a dedicated gamer in the midst of videogaming, which is unforgivable.) They just kind of stumbled around aimlessly, not biting or infecting anyone, yet the humans destroyed them without a thought. Did they deserve it? Probably not. Just keep this in mind the next time you're facing down a crowd of zombies. They're not all horrible undead monstrosities. Some just want to make their way in the world, mindlessly weaving through suburbia in a Hummer while wearing Abercrombie clothes and earning minimum wage. (Wait, those activities may actually be mutually exclusive...)

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	4. Building The Collection

Disclaimer: Disclaimer powers, activate!

AN: Heh. Well, I told you you'd wait for months and you know what? Honesty is the best policy. But, thanks to xangabell's helping me to get a bit more inspiration, I've got another chapter for you. It's the only one I've got right now, but still. Good stuff, right? Enjoy!

* * *

**Building The Collection**

They were beautiful. Rare little gems of the occult, each one pulsing with an otherworldly glow. They were exquisite treasures, all priceless pieces of the unknown, and they were all his. Dib couldn't help but be proud of them; his haunted gummy bear collection was one of his most prized spooky possessions. He'd gone through a lot to get them all. A lot.

Sure, some of them Dib just bought from hobos hiding out under bridges around the city, but most of the gummies he had, Dib got through hours of sweat, blood, and general suffering. Every bear had its story that it kept locked away deep in its delicious, sugary goo.

Dib grabbed one, the first he ever found, by its squishy green head. They were all green, a radioactive fluorescent lime color, but he could tell them apart. This little troublemaker, numero uno, held the most memories of them all.

-- -- -- -- --

It was a cold night. The full moon shone bright enough to cast weird shadows of the old rusted-out cars and trucks around him, but it didn't do a thing to quell the chilly wind that sliced through Dib's coat and threatened to rip the spooky pamphlet out of his hands. Dib gripped the folded parchment tighter, he couldn't afford to lose it.

The pamphlet was an ancient- Well, pretty old document that he got a hold of thanks to his connections in the Swollen Eyeball network. Dib still didn't know how a janitor like Agent Darkbooty managed to liberate it from the museum it was supposed to be in halfway around the world, but that didn't really matter, not when he needed the information it held. Skipping down past all the stuff about the interdimensional traveler Mortos der Soulstealer, Dib reread the passage on his prey one last time before setting out to search the junkyard.

Full moon? Check. Old abandoned junkyard? Check. Cellophane bag to contain the bear's restless spirit? Check. Now if he could just avoid the huge guard dog that was prowling around everything would be perfect!

Jamming the pamphlet back into his pocket, Dib pulled his coat tighter around him and ducked out from under the decaying monster truck that had been his shelter, running as fast and as stealthily as he could down a row of corroded skeletons that used to be buses. At the end of the junk corridor lay his goal, an old minivan, abandoned for years. A haunted minivan, the best place to find haunted gummy bears. (They formed down in the cracks of the backseat as old snack crumbs combined with ectoplasm and converted to a dense, eerie sugar.) All he had to do was get in and search for them.

The van's sliding side door howled in protest, the handle snapped off in his hand, but Dib managed to wrench it open far enough to fit his head through the gap and wiggle inside. The interior of the van was a lot more spacious than it originally seemed from the outside. Four rows of seat, all of them dilapidated, their leather upholstery ripped and full of... Stuff. Something green that looked really itchy. In the ceiling, the destroyed DVD player was hanging down on loose wires; somehow still shooting tiny sparks in every direction. A gigantic rat, startled by Dib's noisy entry, skittered across the mildewy carpet and out the door as fast as its clawed paws could carry it. Dib couldn't have been happier. The van was everything he dreamed it would be, and more! Reaching into one of his many coat pockets, Dib retrieved a pair of rubber gloves (painted with the proper runes and sigils to protect him from gummy possession as well as germs) and pulled them on with an enthusiastic snap. It was time to hunt.

It took about an hour and a half to thoroughly search the entire minivan. Dib made sure to check not only the cracks between the seats but also the eighteen different cup holders, the map pockets, the head liner, glove compartment, and all the recessed ashtrays he could find. Good thing too. When he finally discovered the gummy he was after it was hiding down in a fold-out ashtray, nestled down among a mass of candy and junk food wrappers that had long since petrified into a hard plasticy shell. After carefully sealing the gummy away in is bag, Dib checked his watch. The glow-in-the-dark chubacabra on the face said it had been exactly seven hours and six minutes since he arrived in the junkyard. The sun would be up soon and, even though he didn't have the most attentive of fathers, Dib didn't feel like getting caught sneaking out at night.

He turned to leave, but paused when he noticed how the temperature in the van suddenly dropped from cold to absolutely freezing and the peculiar ozone-like stink that was now coming, now from the sparking DVD player, but from the backseat. This was crazy. It was chilly before, but now Dib could see his breath in the air, frost was forming on the inside of the windows! Dib reached out and, curious to see if the van was slowly coating itself in ice, drew a little UFO on the frosted window. It was real all right. He was about to start sketching the Lake Spooky Monster (one of many) when the sound of a little kid crying right behind him made Dib jump. He whipped around, subconsciously noticing how cool it looked as his coat flared out when he did that, only to find he hadn't been hearing things. There was a kid in the backseat. A kid who certainly had not been there during the twenty-something minutes Dib spent searching that area. A kid who... Was slightly blue, and glowing, and more than a little transparent...

"Wow!"

There were exactly four seconds from the moment the word "ghost" to when the first picture was snapped. Dib's digital camera was out of his pocket and taking pictures at lightning speed. After about ten shots he realized something was amiss and took of the lens cap... But wow! A real ghost! The ghost kid crossed his arms and pouted as Dib leapt onto the backseat, taking photo, indisputable evidence, from every angle he could think of. When Dib finally exhausted all the free space in his camera's memory card, he started to wonder why the ghost wasn't doing... Anything, really. It was just kind of sitting there.

"Hey, ghost?" The kid looked at him. Good sign. "Can you tell me what you're doing here?" The kid stuck his tongue out and turned up his nose. Just like a living kid, Dib thought sourly. Well, he couldn't just give up. Dib knelt down on one knee so he and the ghost were eye to eye. "Come on, you can tell me why you're here. I'm a paranormal investigator, I kinda need to know about stuff like this." For a second it seemed like the kid would talk, but when the ghost's mouth opened it wasn't a valuable tidbit about the afterlife that came out, it was a shrill shriek that knocked Dib flat on his butt.

"You took mah gummy! Mah gummy!" The ghost fell back onto the seat, kicking and screaming for all his little ectoplasmic lungs were worth while Dib sat dazed on the floor, shaking his head in hopes that it would make his ears stop ringing. He hardly even noticed how the van was, impossibly, getting even colder and the ozone smell from before tripled. It wasn't until the minivan was rocked by tremors, giant footsteps, that Dib realized he was in trouble.

Out from behind the driver's seat came... Something. Something horrible. Dib could just barely tell that it had once been female. He thought it was another ghost, but couldn't be sure. The thing's body churned and smoked as it moved, like it was made entirely out of shadows and tainted ectoplasm. It was shaped like a humanoid cross between a shaved bear, a walrus, and a refrigerator. All of them angry. Dib found himself shaking from fear, not the cold. Now he knew what this thing was, he'd seen pictures of it before on the web in images scanned from tomes of dark beasts. It was the one supernatural creature he fervently hoped was only a myth: The Deathly Specter of the Soccermom. It- She- It could kill him, easily, and drag his spirit off to carpool and snack on oranges in the underworld; to sit on bleachers of brimstone and be forced to watch her kid's soccer games for all eternity. A fate too horrible to imagine! It took another step forward and Dib scrambled to his feet. If he could just make it to the door-

"Who hurt Junior? Who made mah baby cry?!" The Specter's roar rattled the windows and sent the van's side door slamming back into place. "Was it you?!"

Dib was trapped and the Specter was staring right at him! But there was still hope. A very slim hope, but it was still something. It's common knowledge among paranormal investigators that that no matter how strong a ghost might be, they are usually tied to the place they haunt and unable to leave. All he had to do was get out of the van and he'd be home free. Dib eyed the window in the van's side door, and the huge spiderweb crack running through it. If he could just hit it hard enough, it would break into a thousand tiny pieces. A way out! Safety was just a jump away...

Dib pulled his coat up to cover his head, jumped up onto the row of seats across from the door, and leapt at the window with all his might before the Specter could move to swat him down. Time seemed to slow down as he flew though the air and for an instant Dib felt completely calm. Then he hit the window.

It hurt! A lot more than he expected it would. It was also a little surprising when, instead of the window breaking, the entire door just tore away from the side of the van and came with him... But the important thing was that Dib was outside, the ghosts weren't following, and the haunted gummy bear was still tucked away in his pocket. Mission accomplished. Dib got to his feet and dusted as much of the dirt and rust flakes off his coat as he could, then started walking back towards the junkyard fence. It was time to call it a night.

He made it about halfway out of the junkyard when a pair of headlights switched on behind him and he heard the roar of an ancient engine turning over. Glancing over his shoulder Dib saw a terrifying sight. The van, trailing a long plume of blue flame, was barreling down on him; the Specter howling madly from behind the wheel and her son hanging out the empty hole where the sliding door used to be screaming "Mah gummy!"

-- -- -- -- --

The ghosts chased him for five miles before the sun finally started to rise, the junkyard's guard dog followed him right up to his porch. Dib still had some scars from that... But looking at his collection now, some twenty-three gummies strong, he wouldn't have had it any other way. Those supernatural little bears were worth everything he'd gone though to get them.

Well, maybe not that time he had to wrestle that leprechaun... Dib was still a little unsure about that one.

* * *

AN: Mentioned in _'Gaz, Taster of Pork'_

Dib: My haunted Gummy Bear collection!  
Gaz: Tell me what you did, or I'll eat them Dib! I'll eat them all!

Oh, and just for the record, I have nothing against devoted mothers whose children happen to play soccer. They're not the "soccer moms" I wrote about here. The soccer moms that become specters are the ones who start fistfights and curse at the referees over a kid's game. And no, I'm not going to write anything about leprechaun wrestling. Sorry.

* * *


End file.
